


Wrapping Gifts.

by Vanimelda4



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, johnlock advent collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanimelda4/pseuds/Vanimelda4
Summary: I'm participating in the 2020 Advent Collection Johnlock Style.My prompt was "Wrapping Gifts".
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29
Collections: 2020 Advent Collection Johnlock Style





	Wrapping Gifts.

John turns the present over in his hands with a slightly befuddled look on his face.  
From what he can tell it is a square box about the size of a fist wrapped in gaudy Christmas paper with an elaborate bow on top.  
Maybe it's the bow that he's most perplexed about.  
It doesn't really seem to be Sherlock's style.  
But then again.....neither are the penguins and polar bears decorating snowy trees while wearing jaunty Christmas hats that adorn the paper itself.  
And yet....

He found the present just now purely on accident stashed away in the back of a cupboard while he was trying to find some milk for his tea.  
Because they've run out.  
Of course they have.  
Sherlock never gets the milk.  
He never gets anything.  
Well....apparently he's got John a Christmas present.  
But....they don't do Christmas.  
Not after the 'incident' of 2013.  
After that whole ordeal they've pretty much stopped buying each other gifts or pretty much planning any sort of holiday celebration.  
It's all for the best really, if they want to continue having a relationship.  
God knows John doesn't want a repeat of 2013.  
He'd rather spend every Christmas until the end of time with Anderson than having to experience something like that ever again. 

So instead of acknowledging it's Christmas at all they usually both spend Christmas eve working or with other people.  
At the moment Sherlock is out on some case or other and John has just returned from the Scotland Yard Christmas party.  
Where he might or might not have had a little bit too much to drink.  
Greg invited him.  
Greg still remembers 2013 quite clearly too.  
Even he doesn't want a repeat. 

John gingerly turns the present over in his hands again.  
He gives it a gentle shake.  
The box is quite heavy.  
He looks at the clock.  
It's well past midnight now. Not a snowball's chance in Hell that he'll be able to get Sherlock something in return.  
Great.  
Now he'll look like the inconsiderate one.  
But he really thought they didn't do Christmas.  
Not anymore at least. 

He turns the box over once more and then he notices something else.  
There's a tag. Neatly tied to the large bow on top of the box.  
He carefully takes it between the fingers of his left hand and brings it closer to his face.  
It takes his eyes a second or two to focus on the neatly scrawled letters.  
Maybe he did have a couple of drinks too many....

 _From S to V. With all my love._ the tag reads. 

Wait.....John thinks......”V”? 

Who the hell is “V”?

He doesn't know anyone with a name that starts with 'V'. 

But apparently Sherlock does. 

And Sherlock has bought them a present.....and has hidden it in the back of their kitchen cupboard. 

Because John and Sherlock don't do Christmas. They never get each other presents. Not after 2013.  
But apparently Sherlock does do Christmas. Just.... not with John.  
He wonders where Sherlock has gone to exactly tonight. 

John gives the present another scrutinizing look, sets it down on the coffee table, pours himself a glass of whiskey, sits down and waits.... 

*********************************************

It's well after 3 am when the door to 221b Baker Street opens again.  
Even though it is very, very late Sherlock makes no effort to enter quietly.  
He is however quite surprised to find John still sitting, slightly slouched, in their living-room in his chair by the unlit fire-place. A glass of whiskey dangles from the fingers of his right hand. Most likely not the same glass he started the evening out with. 

“John? Are you still up?”, Sherlock asks. 

“Interesting case?”

Sherlock shrugs as he throws his coat and scarf in a corner of the room.  
“Barely a six. Not really worth my time to be honest....still though......enough to keep me occupied tonight.”

“Was it now?”

Sherlock eyes John wearily for a moment before deciding to sit down in his own chair opposite John.  
“What are you still doing up, John? Waiting for Santa?”

John lets out a laugh at this remark but the sound is cold and instead of looking at Sherlock he stares ahead at the empty fire-place.

Sherlock eyes the almost empty glass in his husband's hand again.  
“John?”

“I thought we didn't do Christmas.”

For a moment Sherlock doesn't know what to say. He's not extremely good at figuring out what John is thinking at the best of times, let alone when he's just come off of the high of a case.  
He hadn't even expected John to still be awake at this hour......or upset....he seems upset.....Sherlock has no idea why.  
But he does sense it is probably in his best interest to tread lightly. 

“No”, he tries, the cadence of his voice calm and slow as if he's speaking to a child, “no we do not.”

“Well....apparently you do.”

Sherlock feels as if he and John are speaking two different languages entirely. His confusion must show on his face because John sighs and points to an object on the coffee table. The whiskey in his hand sloshes against the sides of the glass as he does so. 

On the table is a neatly wrapped square box with a bow on top.  
Even though he prides himself on his deductive skills Sherlock is still none the wiser.  
John decides to elaborate: 

“Who is V?” he asks. 

“Am I supposed to know?”

“You bought them a gift.....name's on the card.”

It is then that Sherlock notices the small tag attached to the gift. He gets up and reads it. 

“With all my love”, John says. His tone is mocking, slightly slurred and a few drops of whiskey make their way over the brim of the glass and on the floor as he waves his arm around theatrically.

“You think I wrote this?” Sherlock tries. After an exciting case it always takes some effort to turn his brain on again but he's slowly starting to manage. 

John looks at him and squints his eyes but says nothing. Sherlock is pretty sure his wonderful, but sometimes pretty dimwitted, husband might be more than slightly drunk. 

Sherlock looks at the wrapped box again.  
And then he recognizes it.  
He rolls his eyes as he lets out an exacerbated sigh. 

“I didn't write that”, he says, “I took that present from a crime-scene.”

The cold atmosphere that, up to that point, had surrounded John seems to thaw somewhat as he says: “Sorry....you did what?”

Sherlock sighs and rolls his eyes again.  
“I thought it might serve as evidence”, he says, “and I wanted to stash it somewhere safe before those buffoons from the yard could get their hands on it.....solved the case before I had a chance to examine it though. I sort of forgot it was there after that. Must have erased it from my mind-palace.”

“You hid police evidence in our kitchen.”

“Secured it.”

“Then who's S?......Or V?”

The victim and perpetrator. You might be surprised to know that there are more people in this world who have a name that starts with the letter 'S' John. Besides, I know we don't do Christmas, I'm not an idiot. Lord knows I've learned my lesson after 2013.”

“Oh”, all John says. 

“So”, Sherlock replies. 

After that they are both silent for what feels like minutes.  
The only sounds that can be heard are the engine of a solitary late-night car out on the street and the patter of rain on the windows.  
It's Christmas eve and it's not even snowing. 

Eventually it's Sherlock who breaks the silence.  
“Wait....you were jealous.”

“Sherlock....”

“You were actually jealous. Of 'V'? 

“I don't do jealous”

“I think you do. You were sitting here all alone in the dark, getting drunk.....er, thinking I was having an affair.”

John doesn't speak. He just stares ahead and takes another sip of his whiskey. He manages to look slightly embarrassed as he does so. 

There is another moment of silence before Sherlock speaks again.  
“John”, he says, the tone of his voice surprisingly soft, no more than a whisper in the dead of night, “you know there's only you for me right? I'd rather die than have anyone else.”

John does look at him then. There's a smile forming on his lips and a look of endearment in his eyes.  
“You're a madman.”

“Mad about you.”

“I'm so sorry, Sherlock.”

“All is forgiven, John.  
It's late. Let's go to bed, alright?”

The smile around John's lips widens and turns into an actual grin.  
“Now there's a gift I'd like to unwrap.”

Sherlock just shakes his head, unable to suppress a fond smile himself.  
“You're definitely drunk.”

************************************************

The present stands between John and Sherlock on the breakfast table. The late morning sun filters in through the windows. Outside it is still raining.  
Sherlock is having his first cup of coffee of the morning while John is nursing a glass of water and two paracetamol. 

By now their curiosity has gotten the better of them and the joyous wrapping paper and bow lay crumpled up to the side. 

John tilts his head slightly as he looks at the square box that was hidden underneath.  
“What do you suppose that is?” he asks. 

“Some kind of kitchen utensil?.....I suppose.....”, Sherlock guesses.

“If either of us cooked we'd probably know.”

“Probably.”

John decides to open the box and take out the item also portrayed on the outside of the box. It's metal and has several bits that stick out at angles, one of them appears to be a scoop and part of it seems to be able to lever. The instructions provided are in French. 

“If this is what they got their significant other for Christmas”, Sherlock says, “I'm not surprised they got murdered.”

John snorts out a laugh.  
“I'm so glad we don't do Christmas.”

“Agreed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to you all!
> 
> I started way too late on this because one of my cats got seriously sick and I've pretty much been doing nothing but worrying and looking after him.  
> My writing mojo and time have been pretty much non existent because of it.  
> So if this entry is a bit lack-lustre I apologise. It was a last minute effort and I did my best.


End file.
